


365 Days

by masamune11



Series: intersecting paths [1]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Fix-It, Fluff, M/M, Tumblr: otpprompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 18:43:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4447472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masamune11/pseuds/masamune11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was his first kill; Mikoto Suoh was the first man who fell by his sword—the first to spill blood on his hand, the first whose death kept on haunting him for the last three-hundred-and-sixty-so days. He found himself loathing the man, for he had forced him to bury a single piece of him that screamed ‘i adore you, don’t make me do this’.</p><p>Reishi Munakata would never be whole again. The purpose of this visit was for him to accept that fact—then move on to become another person.</p><hr/><p>Prompt fill for the following <a href="http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/124125106601/imagine-person-a-dying-and-coming-back-to-life">tumblr post</a>:</p><blockquote>
  <p>Imagine Person A dying and coming back to life after a year, and Person B freaking out seeing A being alive again.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	365 Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sazyanaita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sazyanaita/gifts).



> Writing this because the prompt appears on my dashboard so suddenly that I need to write it.
> 
> Also because sazyanaita needs more fluffs after hoards of angsty things.
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy.

_"Imagine Person A dying and coming back to life after a year, and Person B freaking out seeing A being alive again."_  — _OTP Prompts_

* * *

It was on the 366th day after the Ashinaka High School incident that Reishi decided to visit the school personally.

His decision then was so out of the blue that even Seri needed to ask for his reason to do so. There had been nothing going on in that area since the fall of the previous Red King, nothing so important that it warranted the Blue King’s visit. Reishi gracefully replied that it was never a formal visit, rather a personal one that would be taken from his day-off balance. His lieutenant eyed him warily, trying to discern the meaning behind her captain’s words but feeling too reluctant to voice her question. So she let him off the hook, and Reishi went on his way.

He did not ask for his driver to pick him up, thinking that it was better to visit privately. So he ordered his pass and leisurely went for the nearest train station, his thoughts quietly drifting to those little moments of comfort and coziness, of friendship and rivalry,  _of leather jackets and wispy smoke, of heat and cold—_

 _—_ of _Mikoto Suoh_.

He needed 365 days of waiting—of thinking, of feeling, of remembering—and Reishi felt that he was ready to let go. It was time to chip the final piece of his mind and bury it at the place where it ended. He would not visit Mikoto’s grave; Reishi would only make peace at the place where he did the deed, and nowhere else.

Part of it was never about Mikoto after all.

(He still remembered _his_ limping body reclined on his own, the way his frantic heartbeat eclipsing Mikoto’s easily, the way he breathed harshly as he struggled to form words during his final moment, before what defined Mikoto left the world. He remembered how his heart was still racing when Mikoto finally went slack, how his throat hurt despite forcing his line of vision to stare ahead—anywhere but at Mikoto’s blank face.

It was his first kill; Mikoto Suoh was the first man who fell by his sword—the first to spill blood on his hand, the first whose death kept on haunting him for the last three-hundred-and-sixty-so days. He found himself loathing the man, for he had forced him to bury a single piece of him that screamed ‘i adore you, don’t make me do this’.

Reishi Munakata would never be whole again. The purpose of this visit was for him to accept that fact— _then move on to become another person._ )

* * *

He was not surprised when he found the crater from that battle was left as is.

Reishi was partly glad that the building management decided as such. It helped remembering how, where, and when it happened. He remembered standing by the edge of that very crater, his attention fully on Mikoto’s resigned form, with his Sword of Damocles, beaten and broken, dangling, threatening to wipe the whole island off the map.

He remembered of stepping forward and never looking back.

[“Munakata."](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4459706/chapters/10301265#365)

He felt his body froze, recognising that voice wherever he was. That was the same voice which had been haunting him in his nightmares, every time he _plunged his sword into his heart, breaking ribs, tearing flesh_ , in every manner that his mind could possibly think of—in ways that he could never comprehend. This was the voice of Mikoto Suoh, and it was coming from right behind—

(He never looked back. Now he was glad that he _did_.)

A small, lingering smile, a _red that he came to miss_ , [“I’m here."](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4459706/chapters/10301265#days)

Before he knew it, Reishi was already dashing at said man and landed an uppercut. Mikoto did not seem eager to avoid his attack and staggered on his feet.

(He was seething with rage, for this outcome was _impossible_. He remembered how the last of his heat slipping out, heard his last faint breath, felt the weight of his lifeless body against his own. This man died that day, and ghosts could never be touched.

The other little part of him, the part that wished for his broken piece, stolen by Mikoto’s death, to be returned, wept with joy when his fist connected. It proved that he was here _and real,_ and that part of him did not care the whys and hows. He was here, and that was all that mattered to him.)

* * *

“Thank you. For waiting."

A derisive snort, and the man fixed his glass, “I have never waited for you.” _I thought of you, I wept for you, I missed you._

There was boyish grin plastered upon his face despite his swollen cheek. There was no red to help him with healing, after all, and Reishi was too filled with contempt to make him suffer. “Liar. If you did not wish for my return in these last 365 days, I would not be here."

A blink, then a hitch of breath. “You knew?"

“Yeah."

Reishi held his breath and let it all out, slowly. His grip Mikoto’s leather jacket tightened, as if said man would disappear if he did not hug him tighter, “all this time?"

A chuckle, and Reishi’s mind wandered back to nights when he would woke up alone, drenched in cold sweat, from one of the ‘Suoh nightmare’. “every day until now."

It was his honesty that always undid Reishi’s restraint. As the ice holding back his grief and hurt let down in a single, moment of truth, Reishi Munakata let the tears fall as he sobbed. He yielded to the little voice inside his heart—to take this relief that, _yes_ , he would have his broken pieces back; that, _yes_ , he would be whole again; that, _yes_ , he could care less how Mikoto returned from the dead. 

The former Red King stroke his hair slowly, easing the other man to his sobs and tears, and Reishi would not wish to be anywhere except here. _with him_.

“ _I’m here now._ "

Reishi brushed the rest of his falling tears as he managed a still smile, “welcome back."

(He was here and that was all that mattered.) 

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted from [tumblr](http://rantoffireflies.tumblr.com/post/125275081558/365-days%22).


End file.
